Heart of A Serial Killer (Larry)

Chapter 8: A Dahlia

"In other news: Crimson the infamous well-known, world-class serial killer has striked again. This time deciding for their next victim to be a nurse in the London City Hospital, inside an actual patients room. Both fortunately and unfortunately, the patient was unconscious at the time. This serious turn of events may have also had a relation to the commotion of visitors on the floor below where the murder took place at roughly the same time. It has lead to the question: why has Crimson struck in broad daylight and in the public eye? We'll have more information on this horrid crime as the Police release their statements."

Harry sat on the couch staring intently at the early news protruding from his television. He glared at the news reporter - a snobby, professional 30-year-old with blonde hair and a pant suit - while nursing his almost empty bottle of beer.

It was almost one in the morning and his urges to take another life were starting to make his body shake in anticipation. His last kill may have been less than ten hours ago but his addiction was catching up to him again. He honestly couldn't help it. He enjoyed their screams and tears and their begging and how even though they well knew there was a serial killer out there taking one life after the other, they still sort of trusted him. Like he was some hero coming to save their lives and take all their problems and fears of being next away.

Hopeful. That's what they were.

Harry leaned forward, grabbing the remote and turning off the T.V., encompassing the entire room in darkness. Maybe it was just his mind living up to the expectations of being a nutjob, but it was like he could actually feel the darkness reaching up and grabbing him: taking a hold of his body and slowly dragging him more and more into the expanded depths of despair and insanity.

He quickly finished off his beer bottle; throwing it on the floor and listening as it smashed against the carpet and ricocheted off the remaining pieces of glass from the numerous other bottles he's thrown to the floor that ended in the same destroyed fate as the ones before it. He then sighed, standing up and not even bothering to lightly tred over the glass as he walked.

He felt the tiny segments pierce through the skin on his feet: etching themselves deep into his soles and causing blood to trickle out. He could only imagine the color of his own blood on the numerous sections of orange-brown glass that covered some spaces of his floor. The way his blood would fuse into the brownish colors and cause a transparency of beauty that would much resemble the earth and the way it would end.

As he manuvered his way through the darkness, he saw his phone light up on the kitchen counter: a bright light in the shadows that blasted an annoying ringtone, causing Harry to twitch slightly with a want to just destroy the little mechanical device. He already knew who was calling before he even saw the Caller ID, knowing well that they would've been watching the news at this time of night and had of seen the news story.

"Yes, Niall?" He answered.

He could basically hear the Irishman rubbing his hand over his face. "You killed someone. In the Hospital."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, and?"

"I thought you were smarter than that. You know damn well you're meant to treat them to dinner first."

The British boy turned around and stepped towards where he knew the refridgerator was. "Why are you caring so much, exactly?"

"Because despite the distraction Dylan and Di caused, you wouldn't have been able to erase your finger prints over the room that quickly. Not to mention, your little unrequited lover-boy may have woken up from all the commotion and caught a very detailed glimspe of you before your high-flying trapeze jump from his window."

Harry froze for a few seconds, hand in the middle of reaching into his fridge for another drink. He recollected himself and shook his head, slamming the small door shut behind him and knocking the bottle cap off with the edge of his counter top. "No, he couldn't have been awake. I would've known."